


Do You Proud

by Onceyourempire



Series: Star Wars AU ficlets [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Wedge is Poe’s Mentor AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-15 09:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13610802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceyourempire/pseuds/Onceyourempire
Summary: Poe’s a good man, with a good heart, and a serious impulse control problem.Wedge thinks Poe might be the death of him someday. He couldn’t be prouder.{A series of fics exploring an AU where Wedge Antilles was Poe’s mentor and hero from childhood to flight school into the Resistance and beyond}





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Im mass posting all these star wars au bc im just. Like. Avoiding working on all my other series and these are low stress lol
> 
> Wedge antilles as Poe’s mentor is the canon we deserve and u know i’ll be writing ficlets of this for ever and ever. I’m anxious abt writing both of them bc i love them both so damn much and I wanna do right by them??? Lol???? Gotta do yr best i guess

+++

Poe’s on leave when he hears that Leia Organa has officially stepped down from her position as Senator to lead the Resistance against the First Order. Papá gives him a look as the news plays over breakfast. Poe doesn’t meet it, looking down at his food and laying his hand on BB-8’s head. It whistles and pushes its head up.

“I have to go to the Academy today.” Poe says, and fails to make it casual. “Captain Antilles asked me to show off for the new recruits.”

“Be careful, mijo.” is all his father says.

“I’m not going to crash, Pa.” Poe looks up finally, brow furrowed. “I actually earned these badges, I’ll have you know.” He means it as a joke, but it comes out snappy. Papá gives him another look. “I’ll come home safe.” Poe says, hoping it sounds like the apology he means it to be.

It’s apparently good enough for Papá, who smiles wryly. “Maybe Wedge will have some insight.” He says, eyes focusing back on the news screen.

That’s what Poe’s afraid of, but he just nods and keeps eating. BB-8 chirps and rolls back to its charging dock for a top-off before the long day ahead of them.

+++

“You’re spoiling these kids.” Poe huffs. Wedge laughs.

“That’s the last thing I’m usually accused of.” He says, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

“Look at these X-wings! Brand new, every one of them!” Poe flings a hand out. “What I’m flying now is a beater compared to this!”

“What you’re flying now is what you’re used to, Poe. These kids need to get used to what’s going to be considered a beater four years from now when they’re out flying. Besides, it makes them complain less.” Wedge starts walking out onto the field, dew dampening his boots.

“Spoiled.” Poe mutters. BB-8 trills its agreement.

“Does that mean you don’t wanna fly one?” Wedge calls out from over his shoulder.

“No sir!” Poe yells back, and jogs to catch up. “If you don’t let me into one of these beauties I’ll consider this whole trip a bust.”

Wedge laughs again. It’s kind of a relief. Poe had been worried that he’d take the news of the last of his friends leaving for the Resistance harder than this, but he seems like he’s in a good mood.

“Sir?” Poe slows down to match Wedge’s casual pace.

“I’m not your teacher anymore, Poe. Wedge is fine.”

“Yessir.” Poe glances over to catch a hint of a smile on Wedge’s face. “You heard about Senator Organa, right?”

“I believe she goes by General now.” Wedge replies, guiding them towards a particular x-wing. “This one look good to you?”

It looks great. Poe can tell when he’s being distracted, but it looks _great_ and he didn’t want the answer to his question anyway. “She’s perfect.” He reaches up to brush his fingers along the wing. “You sure I can’t keep her?”

Wedge puts a hand on his shoulder. “Someday, Poe. Someday. Let’s get you ready before the recruits get out here.”

+++

Wedge isn’t on the ground when Poe lands.

He doesn’t notice right away, heart pounding and face grinning and surrounded by bright faces asking him questions at every turn. He manages to wrangle them and send them off to wherever they’re supposed to be, but not before fending off a couple of love notes and lingering touches. It’s embarrassing on some level, but he also remembers what it was like to be that age. He’s pretty sure he tried to lay the moves down on a few bemused teachers in his day, probably including Wedge himself.

This is the thought that leads to noticing Wedge is missing which leads to a horrible hole of fear in Poe’s chest.

BB-8 whistles nervously.

“It’s okay buddy.” Poe lies, bumping his knuckles gently against its’ dome. “I know where he is. Come on.”

+++

Wedge is at his desk in his quarters when Poe arrives. He doesn’t knock. He never does. Wedge doesn’t even look surprised.

“Sorry I couldn’t stay.” Wedge doesn’t even look up from his typing. “What I did see was pretty good. You still need to work on your spins. They’re too loose.”

“You’re leaving.” Poe doesn’t leave the doorway. He’s afraid if he gets too close to Wedge, he’ll — he won’t go home. “You’re joining the Resistance.”

Wedge looks up. “Close the door, Poe.”

Poe does, because for all his posturing and stubbornness he always listens to Wedge.

“Did Se — did General Organa ask you to?”

“She didn’t have to.” Wedge taps a few more times on his datapad before putting it down. “They’re going to need me. No Han, no —“ He pauses. Clenches his fists. “No Luke. Her son is gone. The Jedi are dead. I’m about all that’s left.”

Poe sees where this road ends. Wedge has survived thousands of things he shouldn’t have, flown on one Death Star and destroyed the other, lead squadron upon squadron for the New Republic — and it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, for himself or for the galaxy. There’s always another burden for Wedge Antilles to bear. Poe is just so horribly and suddenly aware that this might be the one that breaks him.

“You don’t have to come, Poe.” Wedge stands up. Poe wrinkles his nose. “I know you were thinking it. I would never ask that of you. You know I wouldn’t.”

Wedge doesn’t have to. After Mamá died, Poe was adrift. He joined the Republic Flight Academy chasing her ghost, and found his future instead. He found the sky and the stars and the dream that Mamá had carried her whole life. He found her spirit out there and in service to the New Republic and amidst all of that, he’d found a mentor and a friend in Wedge Antilles. Wedge Antilles, who had known his mother and his father and Luke fucking Skywalker and a thousand others Poe could only dream of meeting. Wedge Antilles, who was the best damn pilot the Rebellion had ever had besides Luke. Wedge Antilles, who had seen Poe and his fragile heart and thought to make something great out of him.

  
Wedge Antilles, who had let Poe make something great of himself.

Wedge is family. Poe’s lost enough family in his short life. He won’t lose one more person without at least trying to keep him safe.

“Poe.”

Wedge needs him, even if he isn’t going to ask. Damn him. Damn him and his self-sacrificing noble attitude. Damn his good heart. Poe is shaking a little with a rush of fear and adrenaline. He damns Wedge a little more for good measure, though he doesn’t really mean any of it, not one bit.

“Poe, don’t —“

“I’m coming with you.” Poe blurts out. “You need pilots, right? I’m the best there is. You need me at your back.”

Wedge looks frozen for a moment. His mouth twitches, though Poe can’t tell if it was going to be a smile or a frown.

“Almost as good as having the Force at my back.” Wedge says. It comes out like an obscure reference, an inside joke he has with himself. He rubs his face. “There is no going back from this, Poe. If we are not court-martialed, we will most certainly be dishonorably discharged. The chances of us getting killed are very high. You won’t be able to see Kes very often — maybe never again.” He removes his hand and meets Poe’s eyes. “You have to be sure.”

“I am.” Poe replies. He isn’t sure about what the New Republic is doing, isn’t 100% sure about the Resitance either, but Wedge is. General Organa is, and Poe has never had anything but respect and admiration for her. He’ll find his own faith along the way if he has to. For now he’s happy to follow the two of them into the end times themselves.

BB-8 boops and whistles its enthusiastic agreement.

Wedge smiles at it and kneels. “You, my friend, are going to get us all into a lot of trouble someday. Poe has been teaching you some bad words, hasn’t he?”

BB-8 chirps and zooms into Wedge’s knees, eager for affection. Wedge winces but obliges anyway.

“This is a pretty top of the line unit, Poe.” Wedge tickles under BB-8’s main camera. “You sure you’re not going to be too spoiled for the Resistance?”

Poe laughs. The hole in his chest shrinks. The fear stays, wrapping around his heart and his bones, but he thinks that maybe it won’t last. Between the two of them, they’ve both more flying skill then the whole First Order put together.

“I’m assuming we won’t be flying the Rogue callsign.” It hurts his heart to think of that. Rogue Squadron was all he’d dreamed of for so long.

“Not while the New Republic still stands.” Wedge taps his thumb against BB-8. “I figure we’ll do colors, like we did in the early days of the Rebellion. I assume that’ll be my job to sort out once we get there.”

“As long as I get to fly, I’ll be happy.”

“You’ll be doing more than that, kid.” Wedge rises to his knees slowly, wincing the whole way. “Based on what I’ve heard, you may be training pilots as well. May even get your own squadron, depending.”

There’s a flash of thrill in Poe at that. Rank doesn’t mean much in a guerilla army, he thinks, but a squadron is a squadron.

“I’ll do you proud, sir.”

Wedge puts a hand on Poe’s shoulder and squeezes. “You always do. Come on. We should see Kes before we officially become deserters and betray our republic.”

“You make it sound better all the time, sir.”

Wedge chuckles as he heads for the door. Poe follows him, as he always will. The heat of Wedge’s hand stays on his shoulder all the way into the crisp cool air of Yavin 4.

+++


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe’s been missing for days.
> 
> Wedge tells himself it’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything. Poe’s fine.
> 
> (And if he isn’t? Wedge lies to himself and says it won’t destroy him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone wedge loves dies lol :)

+++

“Commander Dameron hasn’t checked in recently.” Tycho says.

“Not unusual. He tends to just —“ Wedge waves his hand vaguely. “— whatever. You know.”

“Who knows where he got that from.” Tycho smiles fondly at Wedge despite his teasing tone. “Just an observation, Wedge. It’s been a little long, even for him.”

Wedge knows that. He hasn’t had time to dwell on it recently, between the rising threats from the First Order and the constant calls from old allies in the New Republic. He’s dealing with threats and pleas from all sides and that’s not even counting the time he’s had to spend trying to get the flight squads into some kind of order. Many of them are used to military order, but a lot of them are scrappers running headlong to dreams of — something. Wedge used to know. Anyway. He’s been busy.

“He’s smart. He’s been doing stealth for longer than I ever did. I’m sure he’ll turn up. Aren’t you supposed to be flying against some of the new pilots in sims?”

Tycho knows an exit line when he hears one. He squeezes Wedge’s shoulder on his way out. “I’ll keep an ear to the ground.” He promises before closing the door behind him.

Wedge takes a deep breath, counts to three, and releases it. It doesn’t ease the churning in his stomach.

+++

It’s been two days since Tycho brought up Poe’s disappearance. Leia has pulled him aside once to ask Wedge if he’s heard anything, which has not eased Wedge’s nerves. He knows Leia sometimes wants nothing more than to dump Poe back onto Yavin 4 along with all his stupid heroics and snap judgements, but she cares. He secretly suspects that if anything were to happen to her, Poe might not be too far down the line from becoming General Dameron. Her concern only magnifies his own.

He gets a report in the morning of a pilot having been captured by the First Order. By the afternoon, Tycho and Leia have both ordered him to stop trying to overplan, Commander Antilles, this is out of hand, go get some sleep or something. He’s probably compensating. He always does this when he loses someone. Wedge never gets used to it.

When he wakes from his nap, there is a report of chaos upon a First Order base. A ship stolen, a First Order Trooper defecting, drama abounds. It gives Wedge a spark of hope. Only Poe.

The end of the report says that, as far as they can tell, the stolen ship was shot out of the stars. Wedge goes back to sleep.

+++

It’s another few days before Wedge thinks he’s going to be alright. It never gets any easier, true, but he has work to do and mourning comes later. The bigger problem is how they’re going to recover Poe’s missing BB unit. They need to find Luke, now more than ever. Thinking of Luke never ends well for Wedge though, so he thinks about the Force instead. If it’s truly in everyone, even in bits and pieces, he should be able to tap into that, right? He could really use a little extra oomph right about now.

(Wedge had always wondered if maybe Poe was a little force sensitive. No one flies that well without the Force guiding their hands. It wouldn’t have been enough to get him into the Jedi Academy, but it was enough to make Wedge’s heart ache when he watched Poe fly. It reminded him so much of Luke sometimes. Did Wedge ever tell Poe that? He doesn’t think so. Did Wedge ever tell Poe that he looked so much like Kes and Shara when he got out of the cockpit after a particularly good run, all big smiles and sure hands?)

(He isn’t sure. He’d told Poe so many things, and it’ll never have been enough. It really never gets better, does it?)

He’s getting out of yet another meeting when the clamor starts. People are running everywhere, which isn’t unusual, but no one looks grim. In fact, most everyone is yelling in excitement instead of panic.

“General! Commander Antilles!” One of Leia’s aides sprints up to them, juggling tablets. “Commander Dameron has landed on base! He’s alive!”

Wedge doesn’t hear the last part. He’s already running toward the landing zone.

+++

“Poe!” Wedge shouts. He doesn’t think Poe will be able to hear him of the dull roar of landing zone activity, but he does it anyway. “Where’s Dameron?” He slows down only long enough to ask a passing pilot.

“Looking for you and the General, sir. Last I saw him, he was trying to get away from on-site medical.”

Of course he was. “Thank you.” Wedge says before jogging off to the medical station set up on the far side of the courtyard.

He sees Poe after another minute of jogging, and Wedge’s heart lurches in sympathy. Poe’s burnt and cut and bruised all over, and looks like he can barely stand. Behind him is a barely functioning Y-wing from the early rebellion days — where did he pick that up from? Has he even flown something like that before?

Poe sees him. He jerks his arm out of the grasp of a very worried medical officer and starts to limp-run in Wedge’s direction.

Wedge can’t remember the last time he moved so fast. It’s like he’s flying.

It’s an instant, and then It’s a tangle of limbs and fingers in clothes and Poe practically sinking into Wedge’s arms. Wedge wraps an arm around his waist and another around his shoulders and thinks he’s never letting his wild stupid brilliant kid out of his damn sight ever again. He tries to be careful not to hug Poe too tight, a courtesy which Poe does not extend to him. Wedge couldn’t care less. The weight and the strain of Poe’s arms around him is a relief. It’s a confirmation. It speaks the truth of Poe’s existence more eloquently than any words could.

“We thought — stupid, we were so stupid.” Wedge grips the back of Poe’s shirt. “We shouldn’t —“

“I’m alright, sir. I’m okay. I’m home.” Poe says, which is right about when Wedge starts crying. Thankfully, so does Poe, which makes Wedge feel a lot better about the whole situation.

“If we didn’t need you in the air so bad —“ Wedge mutters into Poe’s shoulder between delighted sobs, “— I’d have you grounded for weeks. Steal a First Order ship, crash wherever, stupid stupid—“

“I learned from the best.” Poe laughs, raspy around the edges, and Wedge laughs with him. He tries to say a hundred more things to Poe (about Luke, about Shara and Kes, about the Force and Wedge and being alone) but it all chokes up in his throat. He clutches Poe a little closer and hopes that says enough.

+++


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe isn’t used to being stuck — unable to fly or command or do anything useful at all. All he can do is sit with Leia and look to the stars and wait.
> 
> Wedge is used to almost everything by now. He sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im congested as shit but im on a roll for once so neither god nor obama will stop me from marathonwriting for this au

+++

Poe watches Leia sleep and thinks that it couldn’t get much worse.

He knows what she says about hope and the sun and all that but they’re going to die in 12 hours if Finn and Rose fail. He knew what he was getting into, joining the Resistance.

He just never expected to go quietly.

Wedge snorts in his sleep behind him. Poe glances over his shoulder at his friend, face down on the table, surrounded by charts and datapads and pens that are bleeding ink. Wedge hasn’t slept since the evacuation started, probably hadn’t slept for a while before that. Poe doesn’t have the heart to wake him.

Poe looks back at Leia. Every so often, her fingers twitch. Poe gently covers her hand with his own. It seems odd, for her to be so small in her sleep. It’s not the motionlessness of her coma that bothers him — the General is often the eye of the storm, watching the chaos around her with a twitch of a smile and a gleam in her eye. It’s the lack of strength that bugs him. Her presence normally fills a room. Now it barely fills the bed she lays in.

Poe never expected her to go quietly either.

“General -“ he says, without thinking. He swallows, wraps his fingers around her palm. “Leia.”

He feels like he has a hundred things he wants to say, but no idea of where to start. He clears his throat and does his best.

“I don’t really — ‘get’ the Force. Wedge always says that nobody does unless you’re a Jedi but you’re not a Jedi and you do so. I don’t know what that means. Um.” Her fingers twitch. “The idea is it’s supposed to be ‘with’ you. Is that guiding you or protecting you or what? ‘Cause I - uh - I feel like it’s not with us right now.”

Which, for a guy who has been surrounded by the Force and people who believe in it and it’s power, feels like a weirdly sacreligious thing to say. But it’s true, so he keeps going.

“Holdo won’t tell me anything. Wedge either doesn’t know anything or also won’t tell me anything. I - um. I sent Finn and Rose off and I hope they’re okay but - what if they die out there instead of in here?” Papers shift behind him. Poe looks back, but Wedge is still breathing deeply. “I don’t even have BB-8.”

He pauses. Leia and Wedge continue to sleep.

“I’m not afraid to die.” He says, quieter than before. “The waiting is worse. The waiting and the being alone. When I joined up with the academy, it was weird, being on top of everyone all the time. But that’s how it is, out there, in the fleet, here in the Resistance. Everyone's always all over the place. Now there’s no one left and it’s —“

Poe doesn’t do this kind of thing. He’s a strategist, a leader, a quick thinker, but yawning voids of thoughtful loneliness don’t suit him. There’s always something for him to do, some task to complete, some new goal to achieve. Now he has to sit on his hands in a quiet room with two of the most important people in his life and it’s killing him.

This is why Wedge keeps so busy, he realizes. Wedge is always in the midst of everything, working himself to the bone so he doesn’t have to sit and think about all the people who died and all those who are yet to be lost.

Poe releases Leia’s hand and wipes his sweaty palm on his pants.

“I know you always joke that I take after Wedge more than my own dad,” Poe says after a second. “But maybe you’re not wrong.” He looks at Wedge again, who is starting to stir. His fists clench against the table in agitation. A nightmare, maybe. “Don’t tell him. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Poe stands carefully and makes his way to Wedge. “Wedge? Hey buddy, you alright?” He puts a hand on Wedge’s shoulder, which jolts Wedge into wakefulness.

“Hgh?” Wedge says, coherent as ever.

“The table’s probably not super comfortable.” Poe starts to shuffle papers into random piles. “Though I did see you sleep on top of your desk once, so maybe this is better. You’ve seen a bed, right? You know what those are?”

Wedge slaps at Poe’s hands and grunts again, but smiles all the same. “It’s not like I chose to fall asleep in uncomfortable places.” He says, voice still scratchy with sleep. “I go where my exhaustion takes me.”

“Yessir. Whatever you say.” Poe pats him on the back. “Holdo still won’t let me on the bridge -“

“Hard to imagine why, Captain.” Wedge says dryly.

“- but I’m sure there’s something I can help you with that doesn’t involve moping over the General or being on the bridge.”

Wedge squints up at him. He seems to see something, no matter how hard Poe tries to hide his various crises, because he stands and holds the side of Poe’s face in one hand.

“We’ll make it through this, Poe. You have to have faith.”

Poe has faith. He just isn’t sure that’s going to be quite enough. He doesn’t say that though, because then he’d have to tell Wedge about his plan with Finn and Rose and that’s on a need to know. Wedge probably needs to know but he would also probably get mad. Poe closes his eyes and sighs.

“I’m doin’ my best, Commander.”

“That’s all I ever ask, Poe.” Wedge gives him one last affectionate pat and heads for the door. He pauses at Leia’s bedside to grip her hand, and the image of the two of them will be burned in Poe’s memory till the end of time. “Come on.” He says, straightening up. “Let’s find something productive to do.”

Poe looks back at Leia one last time as he follows.

God he hopes this plan works. He can’t let it all end like this. He clenches his fists briefly.

He won’t.

+++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall i miss carrie fisher so damn much


End file.
